


Defenses Down

by MorganAW



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganAW/pseuds/MorganAW
Summary: The fever seems to have knocked down more than just her immune defenses when Lizzie falls ill at Pemberley Digital. She’s forced to shift her perceptions when a certain CEO comes to her aid.





	1. Counting the Hours

**Author's Note:**

> **Licensing Note:** Based on Characters and story lines from _Lizzie Bennet Diaries,_ written and produced by Bernie Sue and based off of _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen. Dialogue from the _Lizzie Bennet Diaries_ is in  blue , text from Jane Austen is in  green. The tense, pronouns, or wording of these quotes may be slightly modified to fit the scene. All original content and plot for Defenses Down is released under a [Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/) license by Morgan A. Wyndham. Cross published on fanfic.net as [MorganAW](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/9748539/).

Lizzie woke on Thursday morning shivering and cursing the San Francisco climate. How could it be this cold in California? She lingered under the warm jets of the shower a trifle longer than usual, dreading opening the bathroom door and letting out the soothing heat. She put on a warm sweater and leggings under her knee length skirt and boots, wrapping a scarf around her neck before she ventured outdoors. She was halfway to the office when she realized that most of the people she passed were not similarly dressed against the weather.

By the time she made it to her office she was vacillating between freezing and burning up and it dawned on her that there may be more than the weather at fault here. The sniffles and cough started sometime around nine thirty and by the time she left her office to attend the ten o’clock budget meeting she felt drained and slightly queasy and was starting to suspect that she was coming down with something. These suspicions were confirmed by her stomach’s reaction to the mere sight of the fancy bagel spread at the meeting and the concerned looks the CEO was casting in her direction from the head of the conference table.

Her stamina and attention were flagging by the time the meeting ended and she swayed slightly as she stood up. She grasped the back of a chair to steady herself in what she hoped was a casual manner. Apparently she failed as Darcy’s concerned eyes were suddenly much closer and his hand hovered near her elbow. "Lizzie, are you alright?"

"I’ll be fine," she said nonchalantly. It would have been more convincing if she hadn’t coughed immediately after.

"You are not well, perhaps you should go home. Can I call you a car?" He asked solicitously.

"No, I’m fine," Lizzie said with a wave of her hand and promptly started coughing again. He raised his eyebrow in concerned disbelief and Lizzie wondered why she’d never noticed that softness in his eyes before. "I have another meeting this afternoon that I need for my independent study," she added, still somewhat breathless from this latest coughing bout, "I’ll stick it out."

"Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? I think I have some cough drops in my office." He lifted his hand again, nearly placing it on her forehead as if to check her temperature but then drew back. For the first time, Lizzie found his social awkwardness adorable.

"I think maybe I just need to lay down for a bit."

"Why don’t you go find an empty napping pod, I’ll be right back."

She made her way to the bathroom, where she contemplated whether she had to throw up. When the contents of her stomach remained _in_ her stomach after a few minutes, she then proceeded to the napping pods. She again marveled at the decadence of them, the implicit care Darcy provided for his employees. She had managed to clumsily wrestle her boots off and was just sinking into the cushion when Darcy walked up with full arms. He handed her a cup of tea, and said shyly, "chamomile with a bit of honey, I figured it was the best option." He then neatly laid out remaining rations on the small table next to the pod: a box of tissues, a bottle of water, a couple packs of saltines, a bottle of aspirin and a pack of cough drops.

"Thank you," she responded quietly, apparently Darcy’s awkwardness was catching. She took a few sips of her tea, and began to nibble on a saltine as the silence drew out. She shivered slightly, which he must have noticed as he quietly walked to a cabinet against the wall and grabbed her a blanket. He unfurled it and was about to settle it over her when he apparently thought the better of it and handed it to her.

She covered herself with the blanket, embroidered with the Pemberley Digital logo, and nestled back into the pod. She wondered drowsily if it was common practice for the CEO to take care of his ailing employees. The look of pained longing on his face as he stuttered for a reply informed her that she had said it out loud. _Shit._ "Oh God, Darcy I’m ..." her apology was abruptly cut off as the nausea finally won out and she vomited all over his ten thousand dollar shoes.

He briefly jumped back but then leaned in and held back her hair. When the retching finally stopped he gently helped her to lay back down. "God, Lizzie, you’re burning up. Here," he said as he handed her a handkerchief — an actual cloth handkerchief — and uncapped the bottle of water for her.

"Your shoes..." she said weakly after she’d cleaned herself up a bit and sipped some water.

"It’s of no consequence," he said as he handed her an aspirin, "this should help bring down the fever."

"I’m sorry to be such a nuisance."

"You could never be a nuisance Lizzie Bennet," he said sweetly as he brushed the hair off of her forehead.

"I doubt that’s what you’d have said last summer at Netherfield," She said sleepily.

"But we both know I was a fool last summer. Get some rest Lizzie." She drifted off to sleep with the ghost of his cool fingers brushing across her skin.

~~~

As she began to re-emerge into consciousness, Lizzie pulled the blanket closer to her face and nuzzled further into it. Whatever fabric this was she wanted to line her bedroom with it, it was so soft. She opened her eyes and jumped, disoriented at the claustrophobic enclosed space. After a moment of panic that she was in some SciFi dystopian nightmare, she realized that Darcy must have closed her into the napping pod before he went back to work. After several attempts to lift the contraption, she realized she had to twist it and it softly opened revealing late afternoon rays of sunlight. _What time is it?_ She fumbled for her phone, still groggy, achy, and somewhat queasy.  "What the F-!" she shouted as she realized it was 5:15. She had slept through the day, through her meeting!

Darcy’s head popped out of the adjacent snack room. "Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?"

"I missed the planning meeting! There’s not another one scheduled while I’m here! Why didn’t you wake me?" Her rant was interrupted by another inopportune bout of coughing.

He looked anxious and replied, "I did try, but you were out like a light. I thought it best to reschedule the meeting and let you sleep."

"You..." she glanced at him and he looked so adorably sheepish ... "you didn’t have to do that."

"I knew you wanted to be there. Besides, the development team was grateful for the time extension." It may be the fever talking, but he really was acting rather sweet today.

"Why are you still here lurking in the snack room?"

"I couldn’t leave you here alone in your condition."

"That’s..." The fever was apparently also robbing her of the ability to think properly, "I’m sorry I derailed your entire day."

"It was no trouble Lizzie Bennet." He looked up at her with that intense stare. She probably looked like a trainwreck right now — she was sweaty and disheveled, her nose was running, and she had even thrown up all over the poor man — but despite all of that, now she saw what she hadn’t seen last summer and fall: the longing in his eyes. He still cared about her, loved her even and at that moment there was nothing robotic about his gaze. That look scorched her and she had to look away.

He shuffled uncomfortably. "Would you like some tea? I ran out at lunch and got some ’throat coat’ tea," he looked down hesitantly again, "or some ginger ale and saltines, you haven’t eaten much all day, you could use some calories..."

"Tea would be lovely," she interrupted his rambling, "thank you." He returned to the snack room to make her tea and she drank some water, popped a cough drop in her mouth, and began what felt like the Herculean task of putting on her boots. She ached everywhere, and after one boot she paused to consider the merits of just riding out her illness here on this napping pod. The prospect of her toothbrush and her warm cozy bed waiting at home for her was enough to induce her to put on her other boot. After that effort, she draped the softest blanket ever back around her shoulders and curled up on her side.

She woke up to the soft clink of Darcy setting a travel mug on the table next to her. "Oh, I must have dozed off again." She said, lamely.

Darcy sat beside her and placed his hand on her forehead again to check her temperature. "Your fever seems a bit lower than this morning, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus after screaming for hours then punched in the stomach for good measure," she whined and held out her hand for the tea.

He handed her the mug. "Do you want to keep resting here, or do you want to go home?"

She cradled the mug in her hands, soaking up the warmth. "Why can’t teleporters be a thing that exist? I want to go home, but I don’t want to get up."

"Come on," he said, chafing his hand up and down her back, "I’ll drive you home."

"Mmm, what a gentleman," she murmured as he offered his hand to help her up. His hand was soft and gentle and she was way too out of it to worry about the consequences now, so she kept hold of his hand as she shuffled down the hallway to her office to collect her things. "By the way, I don’t think I’m ever letting go of this blanket, I think it’s my new favorite thing."

Darcy’s lips quirked up just a bit at the edges and he looked at her indulgently, "consider it a gift then, a souvenir of your time at Pemberley.

~~~

Several hours later Lizzie woke disoriented in her own bed to a soft thud in the hallway. Living alone for the first time she knew that she was quick to alarm at every little noise, but that definitely sounded like someone was in her apartment. A moment later she jumped when the silhouette of a man filled the doorway.

"Oh good, you’re up," Darcy said as he set a bowl down on the nightstand and turned on the lamp, "I thought you might want to try eating something."

"Jesus Darcy you scared me! What are you still doing here?" She’d assumed that once he’d settled her comfortably in bed with another supply of neatly ordered rations on her bedside table he’d go home, but she’d fallen asleep as soon as she’d hit the bed.

"You haven’t eaten all day, I made you some soup." She looked down and saw that this wasn’t soup poured from a can. He’d cooked for her, like actual chopping and simmering and stewing, homemade soup _cooked_.

She looked up at him and saw how anxious he was, how eager to please. Without thinking she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you." His eyes twinkled with wonder and he gave her a boyish smile. That smile suited him. He was usually so stiff that it sometimes seemed like he’d been born a fully grown business man. "Is there a bowl out there for you, or are you going to make me eat alone?"

His grin widened, "I’ll be right back." As he disappeared into the kitchen, she rearranged the pillows on her bed so she could sit up comfortably and eat. She hastily pulled her fingers through her hair to tidy it then immediately felt silly. If he’d seen her in various states of undignified today and was still able to look at her like _that_ , a little bit of mussed hair would not scare him away. Then she stopped, shocked at her own thoughts. Was she trying to impress Darcy? She hadn’t really hated him since she’d read his letter, and there had been a charged tension between them since she’d arrived at Pemberley, but she’d assumed that was because of _his_ feelings and their uncomfortable past. She hadn’t much dwelt on her own feelings. It was certainly much harder to resist this gentle version of Darcy who was patiently taking care of her.

Her ruminations were interrupted by his reappearance with another bowl of soup and two cans of ginger ale. He sat down in the chair in the corner of the room and their habitual awkwardness seemed to fall upon them again. They ate  for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the whole meal. Gathering up her courage against the new reflections of the evening, she said: "This is really good, where did you learn to cook?"

Darcy looked up with a slight blush and Lizzie was again struck by how cute he was when he was vulnerable. "When we were younger my mother always made us this soup when we were sick. I’d never made much attempt to learn to cook when she was alive, but the first time Gigi got sick after she was gone she insisted that she needed the special soup. Our housekeeper found the recipe and made a batch for her but Gigi insisted that it wasn’t the same. She wailed that evening that ’mom always made it with love!’ So I had the housekeeper teach me how to make it. Gigi swears that it only works when it’s made with love." Darcy abruptly stopped talking as he realized what he was saying and that haunted anxious look spread back over his face. Lizzie was certain that was nearly a declaration of his feelings and it was so much sweeter than his last attempt that she was almost sorry he’d stopped himself.

"I’m honored you’d share it with me then." She said, somewhat self consciously. "Will Gigi be upset that you shared your mom’s special soup with me?"

He raised his eyebrow and gave her a rueful look, "I think you know my sister better than that by now." They lapsed back into silence for a few minutes as they finished their soup. Darcy got up to clear the dishes and when he returned, Lizzie felt it was finally time to have that conversation about Tolstoy he’d attempted last summer.

~~~

Lizzie woke up with a crick in her neck on top of the general aches and pains of the flu. At some point she must have fallen asleep sitting up while they were talking. She glanced up and saw Darcy asleep in the chair. She quietly got up to go to the bathroom and brush her teeth. She returned to the bedroom and almost tripped over Darcy’s long legs sprawled out in front of him. He couldn’t be comfortable like that. Glancing at the clock she noticed that it was nearly 3am. He’d spent the whole day caring for her comfort, the least he deserved was a comfortable night’s sleep.

Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed his hand. He unconsciously grabbed hers back without waking up. "Darcy," she said softly as she squeezed his hand, trying to gently wake him. He sighed and shifted but didn’t wake up. "Darcy," she repeated and this time she lifted her hand to stroke his cheek.

"Lizzie," he sighed and nestled his cheek against her hand, still asleep.

As charming as this sleepy puppy Darcy was, Lizzie was impatient to get back to bed. She tugged more forcefully on his arm, "come on Darcy!"

He finally woke with a startled breath. "Lizzie? What’s wrong?"

"You are! You’re far too tall to spend the night in that chair, come on." She gave his arm another insistent tug.

"Come where?" He asked, as he obediently stood up even though he was obviously still dazed.

"To bed."

Suddenly he was awake and resisting, "Lizzie. I ... that’s not a good idea." _Ugh, I’ve hit my limit with this chivalry_ she thought in frustration.

"William Darcy, you’ve spent all day taking care of me. You held my hair back while I threw up, you made me tea, we had a philosophical debate about social and gender dynamics in Tolstoy, you cooked me soup _with love_." She stepped closer and kissed him tenderly. "That’s got to count for at least three dates worth of bonding. Now, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and we’ve got this big comfortable bed here ... can we please just go to sleep and figure the rest out in the morning?"

He looked at her with a searching gaze, as if not trusting that this was actually happening.  "Lizzie I still feel the same way I felt back in the fall. More strongly even than I did then. So if you just want to say thank you for recent events then..." Lizzie couldn’t stand this sad hesitation any more so she grabbed him by the neck and kissed him. Passionately.

"Last fall you _told_ me that you loved me in the least romantic way possible. Today you _showed_ me that you love me and managed to be sweet and tender in the least romantic scenario possible. Maybe this is the fever talking. Maybe it’s not just my immune defenses that have been compromised. I don’t know. But realistically, it’s the fact that I literally vomited on you and you still looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman alive. You rearranged the schedules of an entire department so I wouldn’t miss anything important. You spent your lunch break buying a small pharmacy of get-well-soon supplies. You cooked me dinner, you stayed with me because I was sick and you wanted to take care of me." She paused to emphasize the point with another kiss. "Now, I’m still sick, I’m cold, and I’m exhausted. All I want to do is crawl into that bed with you and fall asleep in your arms."

"Who am I to argue with that logic?" He breathed against her lips just before he kissed her again. Then he silently took off his tie and belt, emptied his pockets, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, and kicked off his shoes. Five minutes later Lizzie was happily drifting off to sleep soaking up William Darcy’s body heat and feeling content — if perhaps still a bit queasy.


	2. A beginning

William woke up shivering and disoriented in the pre-dawn haze. It took him a moment to remember where he was and when he did he reached out next to him for Lizzie but she wasn’t there. He sat up, confused, and a wave of dizziness overtook him. He leaned over the bed and was grateful that the bowl he had placed beside the bed for Lizzie was still there as he emptied the contents of his stomach. He felt the bed dip beside him and a gentle hand rubbed circles on his back. When he was through, Lizzie helped him back up fully on the bed and handed him a box of tissues. "Oh God, I feel awful that I got you sick too," she said as she placed the back of her hand on his cheek to check his temperature.

Once he had cleaned himself up and calmed his breathing back down he responded. "Lizzie, I’ve never been happier to be sick in my life. I will gladly share your germs if it means kissing you." He leaned in to kiss her but she deflected and merely kissed his forehead and wrapped him in her arms.

"And I will gladly continue kissing you ... after you’ve brushed your teeth," she laughed and pecked his cheek again to take away the sting of rejection.

He looked up at her and a troubled unease spread over him. "Lizzie, is this real? Or is this all just some fever dream that my mind cooked up? Will I wake up shivering and alone in my own bed?"

Her arms tightened around him, "This is reality. If it were all a dream, would we both be sick? Would I have the worst bedhead from spending the entire day sleeping? Would we have spent the night in the same bed fully clothed and asleep?" She gave him a skeptical look, "that would have to be the saddest fantasy ever."

"Not if it included you in my arms," he shifted from his back to his side and rested his head on her shoulder as he splayed his hand across her stomach, "my  dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" She asked with a laugh, "Only my grandmother and teachers on the first day of class call me that."

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away," he replied, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. She softly ran her fingers through his hair in response and he leaned into her touch, still not entirely convinced that this was real. The soothing rhythm of her fingers lulled him back to sleep.

~~~

He woke up again to an unfamiliar alarm and a groaning Lizzie attempting to silence it without getting up. When she’d succeeded at this task and settled back down, she drowsily said: "I somehow doubt either of us are going in to the office today."

William nuzzled her shoulder and asked how she was feeling this morning. "Well, I managed to make it to the bathroom before vomiting this morning and I now feel like I’ve only been hit by a car rather than a bus, so ... progress? How about you?"

"I am achy, nauseous, fatigued, and my eyes are killing me for sleeping with my contacts in," he said, then tightened his hold on her and continued: "but also warm, cozy, and deliriously happy."

"Well, delirious at any rate," Lizzie said as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "You’re burning up." She shifted for a moment then added, "here, I think we could both use one of these," as she handed him an aspirin and the bottle of water.

He sat up, took the pill, and rubbed his eyes. "I really should take out these contacts. I’ve got an overnight bag in the car." He stood up to go get it, but swayed a bit too much and sat back down quickly.

Lizzie reached out a hand to steady him. "Whoa there, maybe I should go get it."

"But you’re sick!" he complained, earning him an incredulous look from Lizzie.

"Look, I’m a day farther into this than you. I can manage a trip to the car." She said, swiping his keys from the night stand. "Stay here and rest until I get back, okay?" She kissed him on the forehead and left as he sunk back down to the bed.

~~~

He woke up again when Lizzie entered the room with her hair wrapped in a towel wearing pajama pants and a large sweatshirt. "Hey, I figured I’d let you sleep while I showered," she said as she sat down and snuggled next to him. "How pathetic is it that after a trip to the car and a short shower I’m exhausted?"

He kissed her forehead and sighed. "I just woke up and I’m already exhausted."

"Ugh, the flu sucks," she whined. He rubbed her back in commiseration. It was so tempting to just lie here with her in his arms and never get up, but he rationalized with himself that the sooner he brushed his teeth, the sooner he could kiss Lizzie properly again. "I’m going to go clean myself up a bit."

"I should finish getting ready too I suppose," Lizzie sighed and dramatically heaved herself up.

Fifteen minutes later he emerged from the bathroom after a quick shower, much more comfortable in a tee-shirt, pajama pants and his glasses. He found Lizzie in the kitchen taking the kettle off of the stove. Her hair had been braided to one side, leaving the other side temptingly bare. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "I figured I’d make breakfast while we were both on our feet, then we can collapse in bed again," she said as she turned in his arms, "nothing too adventurous: tea and oatmeal?"

"Sounds perfect," he responded as he leaned down and kissed her, unable to wait a moment longer. He’d been resisting the impulse to kiss her for so long that he could hardly believe that she was here, in his arms, kissing him back.

Her hands fluttered to his chest and as they pulled apart she looked down at her hands, then leaned farther back and examined him more closely, laughing. "Well look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so ... casual."

"It’s a sick day," he shrugged.

"And the glasses with the mussed hair!"

"I had to take out my contacts and I just got out of the shower." She bit her lip and giggled in response.

"Are you teasing me?" He asked, confused at her response.

"Oh no! Those glasses ..." she stepped closer and whispered against his lips, "those glasses are fantastic." That magical moment was, unfortunately, ruined by a shiver and a bout of coughing on his part and she chaffed her hands up and down his bare arms. "Why are you wearing short sleeves, you must be freezing?" She asked in concern.

"It’s all I have other than button downs."

"Here, why don’t you take these," she handed him two cups of tea, "into the bedroom and get back under the blankets. I’ll be in in a minute and we’ll see what we can do."

He made his way slowly back to the bedroom and crawled back in bed. She followed a minute later with two steaming bowls of instant oatmeal. Setting them down on the nightstand, she rifled around in the closet for a minute before yelling a triumphant "Aha!" and held up a ratty old hooded sweatshirt. "Try this," she said as she handed it to him. He put it on and it surprisingly fit.

"Where did this even come from?" He asked, looking skeptically at the frayed cuffs.

"Protip, Darcy, if your girlfriend has a men’s hoodie, you probably don’t want to know where it came from," she said as she crawled back in bed beside him, sighing into the pillows. He stared at her in stunned silence.

"What, do you really want to know about the football player I dated in highschool? He lost return rights to his hoodie when he dumped me after three weeks and asked Jane out instead."

"Did you ..." he cleared his throat, "did you just call yourself my girlfriend?" He asked, heart in his throat and his dizziness only partly caused by the fever.

"Oh. Oh! Did I jump the gun on that?" She asked, her brows creased in worry.

"No!" He choked out, then continued in a more regulated tone: "No. It’s just that we haven’t talked about it ... I wasn’t sure what this was for you."

"Isn’t that what your spiel last night was about?  Let me make things as clear as possible. William Darcy, I don’t wanna be just friends and I don’t wanna be with you because I’m grateful. I wanna be with you, because of you. Got it?"

Warmth seeped through him that had nothing to do with the fever and he reverently drew his hand over her cheek and through her hair.  "Clear as day Lizzie Bennet." He leaned forward and was again drowning in her kiss, but she pulled back abruptly.

"Um, not that I’m not enjoying the kisses, but cold oatmeal is the worst and I’m too drained to get up and make more."

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. "I suppose that’s fair." He sat up and accepted a bowl from her. He drank his tea and ate as much as his stomach was willing to tolerate before setting the bowl on the nightstand and laying back down with one arm slung loosely over Lizzie’s lap.

Lizzie had just sunk down to join him and he was occupied with nuzzling her neck when his phone made the calendar notification noise and with a groan he roused himself to check it. It was quarter to nine and he had a meeting scheduled for 9:30. "Reynolds will probably be in by now. I should call in and have her reschedule my meetings."

"I suppose I should call in too, although I have no idea how to go about that. I suppose it’s somewhere in the welcome packet that’s sitting on my desk at Pemberley."

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Well, you’ve just notified the head of the company, so I think you’ll be fine. But I’ll let Reynolds know and she’ll pass it through the proper pipelines." His twenty minute phone call with Reynolds sapped the rest of his energy and he curled himself around Lizzie, who had already dozed off, and promptly fell back to sleep.

~~~

His phone was still conveniently in his hand when it next woke him up. He attempted to answer as he lifted it to his ear, but only managed to cough into it for several seconds before getting out a groggy: "Hello?"

"Jesus William, you sound terrible."

Lizzie woke and looked at him questioningly. "Thanks Gigi, I appreciate your candor." Lizzie nodded and repositioned herself against his side.

"Where are you? Reynolds said you were sick, so I stopped by to check on you on my lunch break, but you’re not at home."

"No. I’m actually ..." he looked down at Lizzie who was smiling at his awkwardness although her eyes were closed "...I’m at Lizzie’s."

"WHAT!!" He held the phone away from his ear, wincing at her volume. "How did that happen? Tell me everything!"

"Lizzie came down with the flu yesterday at work and I took care of her. I drove her home and made her dinner."

"And it was a twenty-course meal that’s still going on at lunchtime the following day?" Gigi prodded expectantly.

"It got late, we both fell asleep, then this morning I found I also had the flu so I called in sick and went back to sleep."

"There are so many holes in that story! Dish!"

"I..." it was all so new and he and Lizzie had yet to talk about what they were going to tell other people, so he was coming up at a loss for what to say. Lizzie raised up her hand for the phone and he gratefully gave it over to her.

"He fell asleep in a tiny chair and looked so uncomfortable when I woke up at 3am that I ordered him into bed with me. He required some ... persuasion ... but eventually agreed and since then it’s been a wild ride of fever, aches, chills, and the occasional bout of digestional pyrotechnics. Oh, and cuddling, lots of cuddles — he makes a wonderful furnace." William blushed at her playfully arch recounting of events. Lizzie paused while Gigi spoke. "I was perhaps a bit over persuasive considering I’m still contagious, but he doesn’t seem to mind the outcome terribly much."

"Ok," he said as he took the phone out of her hands, speaking to Gigi he said "that’s enough information for you."

"William what does this mean?" His sister asked excitedly over the phone, "this is _Lizzie Bennet_ the girl you’ve been pining after forever!"

"This means..." he paused and looked down at Lizzie, who smiled and nodded, "this means that we’re dating..." Gigi burst out with a loud squeal that had him again holding the phone away from his ear ... "or at least we will be once we’re both well enough to venture out in public for an actual date."

"Oh My God! I can’t wait to tell Fitz! I’m just so happy for you guys!"

"Thank you Gigi. Do you think you could stop by this evening with some more clothes for me? I don’t think I’ll miraculously recover today." He concluded his call with his sister and settled back down.

Lizzie draped herself across his chest, looked up at him and murmured, "so now people know," she murmured.

"Well, Gigi knows at least," he replied just as both of their phones alerted them to a twitter notification.

> Gigi Darcy @ggdarcy 25 Jan 2013
> 
> "I guess we won’t be sightseeing this weekend after all since @wmdarcy and @TheLizzieBennet have the flu. Both of them ... at the same time ... just talked to them both and I will be stopping by this evening to drop off provisions ;)"

"Ok, so I guess _now_ people will know," he amended sardonically.

"Whoa, this already has five likes. I think my fans are already eating this up." She pushed herself off of his chest to look down at him, "are you comfortable with all of this, all of the attention?"

He quirked his lips and pulled her closer as he replied. "Lizzie, your fans have already seen my failure at wooing you. I do not mind a bit of fanfare at my success." She leaned down to kiss him. Before long the kiss deepened, hands began to roam, and he rolled them over so that he was on top of her. Unfortunately, the sudden movement was too swift for his stomach and he found himself just as swiftly rolling away to scramble for the bowl from the floor — which Lizzie had thankfully emptied this morning.

"Well there’s a mood changer," Lizzie said playfully as she handed him the tissues and water bottle. He was mortified and began stammering out an apology but Lizzie cut him off, "hey, we’re both ill. I think maybe we just need to hold of on any more ..." she shot him a flirtatious smile tinged with a blush "... strenuous activity for a while."


	3. Epilogue

The remainder of Friday passed in a similar progression of naps, banter, and cuddling while they helped each other through their symptoms. When Gigi and Fitz showed up that evening, they were somewhat surprised to find that the couple were, in fact, ill but happy nonetheless. Saturday they progressed to the couch and watched movies between naps as their symptoms began to fade away. Sunday they again spent most of the day in bed, now that they were mostly recovered from their illness and could enjoy the experience far more than they had on Friday.

On Monday they returned to the office, together, and faced the smirks and smiles of their co-workers. In the morning they shot a video officially informing her fanbase of recent developments in their relationship. Although Lizzie had fielded concerned yet excited phone calls from Jane and Charlotte, she had studiously avoided the twitter backlash from her fans over the weekend.

They spent most of their time outside of work — and some clandestine meetings at Pemberley as well — together that week. Tuesday evening William took Lizzie to the theater for their first official date. By the time they’d left his house on Wednesday morning Lizzie had told him that she loved him and they had an indulgent conversation about the difference a week makes.

And so, when Lizzie’s new phone finished activating and installing on Wednesday afternoon and she discovered seven missed calls from Charlotte, William was well poised to swoop in and save the day. He had Reynolds reserve her a plane ticket while he drove her to her apartment to pack a bag then to the airport. He felt he could do more to track Wickham down from San Francisco, but he would finish packing her things and bring them down to her as soon as he was able.

~~~

It had been two weeks since her world began to fracture and Lizzie felt like she was just patching up cracks with masking tape, inadequately putting out fires with her mother and trying to bolster her sister against this unbearable looming dread.

"My name is Lizzie Bennet and no, things aren’t ok. But we’ll get through this." She looked at the camera with what she hoped was a hopeful face and continued talking about the state of her family.

What she was avoiding saying, what she couldn’t bring herself to say in front of the camera is that she hadn’t heard from Darcy since Tuesday night. Since they’d been together, they’d been in constant contact, even after she’d left they’d talked daily. They mostly talked about trivial things. In the beginning he had told her about his plans to hunt down Wickham, but recently he’d avoided the topic and Lizzie feared it was because even with all of his resources he’d come up with nothing. So instead they’d talked about their days, what they were reading, how much they missed each other — the normal topics of a normal couple who didn’t have a dark cloud looming over them. It was comforting in its banality, soothing to just know he was there and thinking about her. Until yesterday when he was suddenly unreachable.

"One more day until that sight goes live. Valentine’s Day. I mean, could he be any worse?" The nagging insecurity reminded her that she also wouldn’t see her boyfriend for Valentine’s day either.  "We’re ready. As ready as we can be ..." The doorbell rang and she jumped. These days she was a bit anxious, but with everything hanging in the air, that doorbell could mean so many things. She heard a muffled conversation as Lydia answered the door, then two sets of footsteps approach and a gentle knock on the door.

Lydia entered first, and said: "special delivery, just in time for Valentine’s day," with a ghost of her former liveliness. She stepped in and revealed the overwhelmingly welcome sight of William Darcy.

"Hi," He said nervously.

Aware of her little sister’s presence and her currently fragile state, she limited her response to a smiling: "Hi!" in return. With everything that had been happening, she hadn’t told Lydia about their relationship yet, so she was unsure how to proceed.

"Come on, someone in this family should be happy for Valentine’s day," Lydia said with an eye roll and pushed Darcy further into the room. "I’ll leave you to it."

"Lydia, could you wait a moment," he asked in his stilted  agoraphobic lobster voice.

She looked up at him with distrust, then realization seemed to strike and she asked, "it was you, wasn’t it?" in that small, quiet voice she’d sunken into for the past weeks.

He nodded and gestured for her to sit down on one side of Lizzie as he sat on her other side. "What’s going on?" Lizzie asked, looking first at Darcy then at her sister.

"Um, it’s gone. The website. It’s not there anymore."

"What? Really? It ... What happened? How? Ho-" Lizzie stammered and looked expectantly at Darcy.

"It was actually Gigi who tracked him down, from there I was able to ... manage things. That video will never come to light."

Lizzie turned to him,  "Oh, thank you! You are a wonderful person, and I can’t thank you enough."

He looked down shyly and took her hand, "I couldn’t bear to see you," he looked past Lizzie to Lydia, "to see either of you hurt when I could prevent it."

"George?" Lydia asked with a wistfully hopeful expression.

Darcy shook his head gravely and Lydia’s face fell. "He’d signed over universal rights to the video to the company who owned the website which I’ve now ... acquired. He’ll never make any money off of it."

"Oh." Lydia said numbly and deflated a bit more as she stood up. "Thank you ... Darcy. I’ll uh ... I’ll leave you guys alone," she said as she backed out of the room. Lizzie was tempted to follow her and make sure she was alright, but of course she wasn’t and there was nothing Lizzie could do to take that away. The video would never go live, but she’d still been betrayed by someone she thought loved her and her last bit of hope had been dashed.

Darcy squeezed Lizzie’s hand and she turned back to him and smiled. "Thank you," she said again and kissed him tenderly.  "For what you’ve done for my family ... we cannot thank you enough."

He lifted her hand and kissed it.  "Your family owes me no thanks. As much as I have learned to respect them, I did not do it for them. I did it for you."

Lizzie felt somewhat overwhelmed at this and stammered out  "My ... gratitude is there and always will be." _You’re a communications major Bennet, what’s with the muddled passive sentence structure?_ She mentally berated herself. That smoldering look of his was doing things to her cognitive functions.

He brushed her hair off of her face, "I’ve missed you."

"I missed you too," she said, idly playing with his tie. "When I couldn’t get ahold of you yesterday ..."

"I was busy negotiating for Lydia’s video and I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it fell through."

"In the future I’d appreciate a text response at the very least to let me know you haven’t forgotten about me."

"It’s impossible to forget you, Lizzie Bennet."

"You did try though," Lizzie said with a flirty pout.

"Unsuccessfully."

"You didn’t want to like me then. You wanted to take Bing and get the hell out of Dodge."

"My mind changed soon enough."

"When did you change your mind about me?"

"I haven’t a clue. I honestly don’t remember when. I don’t think there was one specific moment. I was in the middle before I knew that I’d begun." He paused and gave Lizzie another smolder. She couldn’t remember now how she hadn’t seen the heat in his looks before.  "And what about you? When did you discover your feelings had changed?"

"Oh, I think the moment I saw the offices at Pemberley Digital. You should know, those napping pods? Women swoon!"

He rolled his eyes at her teasing. "In your case, I’m pretty sure that was the fever."

"Like you, it happened gradually. She grabbed his tie and began slowly pulling him closer. "But when I was sick and vulnerable you were so sweet, and tender and I just..." Their lips touched then and they poured a week’s worth of longing and frustration and ultimate relief into that kiss. At length Lizzie pulled back slightly and murmured "I love you," against his lips.

"And I love you, Lizzie Bennet," he replied and kissed her again.

Before she lost herself again she pulled back and, giggling, said "Um, one sec," and shut off the camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was at least partially inspired by _In the fire we sleep all day_ by Oywiththepoodlesalready and _Safe Within Your Arms_ by iceprinceofbelair, which are both lovely stories, you should go read them if you haven't already done so. Reading them, I was struck by the notion of Lizzie getting Darcy sick by kissing him and Darcy being totally fine with being sick as long as he got Lizzie too.
> 
> Also fun fact, my husband asked me out several times before we dated and I kept turning him down. Then one day I had a migraine and he took care of me. He made me homemade soup and hung sheets around my bottom bunk so that I could turn on some lights without it killing my head. It was the sweetest thing and all of my arguments for _not_ dating him seemed weak in the face of him taking care of me. I thanked him with a kiss and it snowballed from there.


End file.
